There is more to life than these four walls
by cause-i-said-so
Summary: Rachel has had enough of the way the people at McKinley treat her - especially the glee club who claim to be her friends whilst hurting her worst of all- so she decides that maybe it's time to give another school a try.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: So this is one of those stories that I've had semi written for a while but after Cory's passing really decided to actually work on. He gave so much to the community in general, and the arts in particular and I feel like this is the best way I, and we as a fandom, can honour his memory. It's my first time posting something on here so any reviews would be really appreciated :)**_

Rachel stared at Quinn, letting her hateful words course over her. It wasn't enough that Quinn had taken away the love of her life - she now had to rub it in, make it clear that regardless of her talent she was, and always would be, an outsider at McKinley. It wasn't really anything new – Sectionals had made that clear – the most she could muster from her team mates was a "I sorta like her" from Noah. Not even her own boyfriend was willing to stick up for her, claim that he liked her, the way she dressed or defend her against the hateful words of her peers. And yes she had endured worse and she knew how to handle herself and could and would defend herself when the need arose but it would have been nice to know that someone, anyone, cared enough to try and make the bullies back off.

She'd kind of tuned out but she could see from the angry set of Quinn's eyes and the vicious sneer that was spread across her face that she was done talking. She turned and willed herself not to cry until she was far enough away that Quinn wouldn't be able to see the damage that her words had caused. She made her way blindly to her car, grateful for the fact that Glee's after school practices meant that the parking lot was all but empty – she really didn't need to add any more fuel to the rumours that already spread like wildfire around the school.

Driving with tears blurring her vision wasn't her best idea, but she was too emotionally drained to care. Quinn's words were playing in stereo throughout her head and she turned the radio on and cranked the volume up full blast trying to drown out the words inside her head. It did no good though and no matter how much she tried to immerse herself in the songs playing throughout the car her mind remained focused on the events that had transpired earlier that afternoon. Pulling into her drive way she raced from her car, and inside her house, slamming the door shut behind her as she sprinted up the stairs and to the sanctuary of her room. She flung herself on her bed and let the sobs take over, her whole body heaving as her tears made puddles on her pillow.

When her sobs had eased somewhat she dragged herself up and pulled out a note book and a pen – Finn had told her she had to write about her pain – and god knows she had plenty to draw on, even if she hadn't been willing to acknowledge it earlier. Sometimes suppressing it was so much easier, but after the event sof today maybe she needed to channel all of her pain into her work. She hoped that it would clear her head and although it seemed a little out of her reach now, maybe it would be good practice for the future when her songs would inevitably win awards.

She sat on her bed, still sniffling and with errant tears making salty tracks down her face and began to write, the words flowing effortlessly out of her – straight from her heart and onto the paper. About every effort she had made to be the best she could be. She was already a great singer but she had tried so hard to be a good team mate, a good friend. A good girlfriend. But what did it matter now anyway? She was never going to get it right. It only took one look at her team mate's nonchalance and Quinn's hurtful words to know that it was true. Perhaps the worst of it was that Quinn wasn't the only one to send such hateful things her way. There were Jesse's words (and of course his brutal actions with the eggs), Mercedes's snarky comments, Santana's insults and Mr Schuester's blatant displeasure with her…

The knock on her door startled her – she hadn't expected her fathers to be home so soon and she tried to stop the relentless flow of tears, that had started up again as she had reflected on her situation, and tried to force a smile on her numb lips. For the most part she had done a good job of hiding the amount of torment she went through at school from her fathers. She'd always managed to get her slushied clothes washed and dried before her fathers returned home, the cruel notes ripped up and hidden at the bottom of her rubbish bin. The ugly names were easier to hide – nobody could see the scars on her heart, the thin cracks that only got deeper each time a "man hands", "hobbit" or "RuPaul" was thrown her way. She was an actress after all – and a talented one at that - and she worked hard to keep her head held high as if nothing anyone could say or do would bring her down.

More often than not it was easy – her fathers were frequently away on business trips and the rushed phone calls between their meetings were easy to navigate with feigned enthusiasm and false bravado, but time had taken its toll. Her already fragile heart had been obliterated by Quinn's words. She had thought they were a family – a group that looked out for each other – but she supposed it was wrong of her to assume that just because they were part of a group that she was included in it. It was clear all they wanted her for was her voice. And apparently even that had run its course. Mr Shuester had replaced her role in the club, unwilling to let her shine and uncaring that it left her floating and misplaced in a group of people who banded together against the cruelty of the rest of the student body, but more than happy to let her suffer at their hands.

The door cracked open and her Papa gasped as he saw the state she was in "oh Rachaela" he exclaimed, rushing towards her to wrap her up in his arms. He pulled her tight against his chest as she hiccupped and sobbed into his shirt and rubbed her back in gentle circles. Her Daddy returned moments later with a glass of water and she calmed own enough to take a sip, choking down air as she did, trying to regain some semblance of normality. Her fathers looked at her worriedly, questions swimming in their eyes and she ducked her head to avoid their probing gazes. She didn't want to talk about it – it was a moment of weakness and she would return to school tomorrow with her façade of happiness firmly in place, just as she always did, no matter how many pieces her heart was in. She would not let them see her fall.

Evidently her fathers didn't have the same idea. "Racheala, what's wrong?" her papa murmured.

"Nothing" she replied, her voice wavering on the last syllable as she tried to keep her tears in check.

"Don't you give me that" her papa said firmly "I want to know who hurt my baby girl".

She shook her head, unwilling to divulge the whole story. It was her mess to deal with. She had always known she was disliked at school – hell she had the MySpace comments, the slushy facials and defaced locker to prove it – but for a while she had felt like the Glee club had actually liked her. She thought that the loneliness was behind her and that she had finally gotten it right. She had had a boyfriend who said he loved her, who for the most part was kind and caring and gentle and the snarky comments directed at her had somewhat diminished. Maybe she should have realised that people were continuing to say hurtful things about her, even if they were no longer directed at her face. At least when they were said to her face she had no doubts as to where she stood. But no, what hurt the most now was the fact that for a fleeting moment she had felt like she had it all. She had felt loved and safe and included (even if in hindsight there were glaring differences between her assumptions and reality) and it had all come crumbling down. She supposed it started when Santana had exposed the truth about her and Finn so bluntly and from there everything just continued to unravel. When everything was said and done she was still that lonely, Jewish girl that everyone either loved to hate or wished would disappear.

It played on endless loop around her head "he slept with me you know."

"Everyone just pretends to like you."

"You'll never get it right."

"You don't belong here."

Maybe that one hurt the most – she thought she had been making progress with the club – well some of them. She was too realistic to expect Santana to suddenly be nice to her, and Brittany's loyalty to Santana ran far too deep to contemplate a friendship there either. But she had thought she and Tina had bonded over Project Runway, and she had thought she Mike had gotten closer after all their discussions about proper Dance technique. Most of all though she had he thought that Finn had loved her, that he cared enough about her to stand up for her and not be embarrassed to be associated with her. He'd proved her wrong on numerous occasions – the missed dates, the tuning her out, the reluctance to be too close to her in the school hallways – and she had made excuses for him (or maybe they were for herself). He had a busy schedule. He didn't want to cheapen what they had by showing PDA in the corridors. But looking back on it she could see how delusional she had been - it seemed that maybe he had only pretended to like her too.

Another sob ripped from her throat at the thought – she'd been so open and honest with him and she had genuinely thought he felt the same way about her. Him sleeping with Santana and letting the truth come to light the way it did – his ability to easily return to a relationship with Quinn without even a second thought or a shred of regard for her own emotions had proven her irrevocably wrong. Her sobs became increasingly hysterical as the pain that she had thought she had worked through over Christmas break resurfaced, its barbs adding to the new cuts caused by Quinn's words and accumulating on top of years' worth of cruel names and physical abuse. Her fathers shared worried glances and continue to whisper comforting words until she regained some composure before they started in on the questions again.

"Rachel, baby, please tell us what's wrong" her Papa implored, his voice soft and his eyes full of worry.

Her father's insistent questions wore her down, she didn't have anyone else to open up to and she had been keeping it all in for so long. The whole story came tumbling out – of two and a half years of being the school punching bag. Of how on the first day of Freshman year she had received a slushy to the face and, feeling dazed and blinded by the stinging in her eyes, had stumbled to the bathroom and sat in the cubicle trying to hold back sobs until she was certain that the hallways would be empty. Then once she was sure that everyone was in class, how she had hurried home- despite the fact that the clothes that she had painstakingly picked out over the summer were now stained a deep blue, and that her arms were sticking to her body. What was worse was that it was only the first of many and by the end of the year if she go through the day with only 3 in her face she considered it a good day. She told them of how she would walk down the halls only to find the find herself tripped or pushed to the floor, her belongings scattered around her whilst the cheerleaders and jocks laughed and pointed. How the rumours would be spread around the school about her so that when she walked in a room it would go eerily silent as the rest of the class tried to suppress their laughter.

She told her father of how hopeful she had been about the glee club. How with every passing week she felt like they were moving forward as a group, both in their music and in their friendships. Then of the crushing realisation that maybe her hope was premature because no matter how much she thought things were getting better, the reality was starkly different. All she had to do was walk into the school bathrooms to find her name scrawled alongside pornographic pictures with added personal insults that could only have been written by fellow glee members. So what if they had endured similar bullying at the hands of the student body? Whilst everyone banded together she was once again watching from the outside and destined to be beaten down again and again and again.

He fathers expressions changed with every word, from worried and concerned to angry and infuriated as they let Rachel speak without interrupting, gasping and grumbling when the tales became particularly brutal – neither one of them liked to think of their daughter suffering so much. What parent does? And their hearts clenched as guilt washed over them that they hadn't noticed it sooner.

Rachel finally finished speaking; her throat raw from trying to hold back sobs, and her heart still feeling like it was torn to shreds. Her fathers murmured that they'd talk about it in the morning and tucked her into bed, just as they had done when she was a little girl, each giving her a kiss on the forehead before letting her fall into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

* * *

As it turned out sleep wasn't the peaceful oblivion she had longed for, all night the angry, hurtful words ran circles around her head, flashing up with the jeering faces of her fellow glee club members that morphed and changed into one another multiple times. Her sleep was restless and she tossed and turned and whimpered as she tried to escape the words.

Eventually she gave up on sleep and padded down to the kitchen to make herself a hot chocolate. She sat at the kitchen table, cradling it in her hands as she let the warmth radiate through her body finding a small sense of serenity as she watched her drink swirl around the cup. Her fathers found her staring into the empty mug when they arose later that morning and pressed a kiss to her cheek before they busied themselves in the kitchen.

"Pancakes for breakfast Racheala – you're favourite!"

"Sounds great Daddy" she murmured, giving a weak smile before she dropped her gaze back to her mug.

He placed the plate of blueberry pancakes on the table a little while later and her father took seats opposite other as they both dug into the stack.

"Now Bug, we were thinking about what you said last night" her papa began, "And we thought about what your options might be. Now we think that if we went to Figgins-"

"No" Rachel exclaimed, panicked by their suggestion "It'll just get worse – give them even more reason to hate me. I've been doing fine – last night was a temporary lapse in judgement. But I'm fine really! I just needed to get it off my chest. But I really do need to go and get ready for school." She made to leave the table, her chair scraping on the tiles.

"Rachel please let us talk about this first" her Daddy said calmly, gesturing to her seat which she sat back down in with a sigh.

"We can understand that you don't want to go to Figgins, so you're papa and I were thinking. Maybe McKinley isn't the best school for you" Rachel looked up and began to protest but her Daddy interrupted her.

"We know that you're strong Rachel and that you don't want to look like you're running away from your problems. But two and a half years is a long time to put up with such bullying. You've been so brave and so strong and of course your grades are perfect and your voice is still amazing but there's more to a person then what test scores they get or how wonderful their voice is.

"You deserve to be safe, and happy and surrounded by people who actually love you and don't just pretend to. You're worth that – we know that and if that school, that glee club and that boy can't see that then they don't deserve to be around you. You are going to be a star of Broadway one day – but you're already our star and you deserve to be treated like one!"

Tears were welling in Rachel's eyes again (how she wasn't sure she was certain she'd cried them all last night!) as she continued to protest.

"What about Glee Club Daddy? I can't just abandon them – I'm their Co Captain. And what about Finn -"

Her Papa cut in gently "Racheala we listened to everything you had to say last night, and going back to that group – do you really think that's what's best for you? Your voice, your talent and you as a person with everything else that you have to offer deserve more than what they've given you!"

Rachel nodded and looked at her Dads, "Can I have some time to think about it?" she asked quietly. Her fathers both nodded, their eyes soft.

"Take as much time as you need Bug, and we're right here if you need anything."

She got dressed in a haze, her father's words whirling around her head. As she brushed her hair out she thought about everything that had happened during her high school years. Most of the memories she had ended with her in tears or sitting by herself as she tried not to let her isolation bother her – she had to focus on being a star and everything and everyone else was only a distraction. What she hated most though was the Glee had changed her, whether it was for the better or not she was still undecided on. She now knew what if felt like to be included, to not have to sit by herself every lunch and to have plans for after school that involved her hanging out with other people (granted she usually just tagged along with Finn and whatever he was doing but he had never seemed to mind).

Her stomach turned painfully as she thought of Finn. Despite everything that had transpired between them she couldn't help but still have feelings for the tall, handsome quarterback. He had been her first love – and one does not simply forget their first love even if he had been so careless with her heart. She knew that she shouldn't base her decision on one boy. Especially one that so obviously did not have the same investment in a relationship as she did. She knew that being in a relationship with her wasn't easy. She was abrasive and self-absorbed but she still deserved to be loved– and not just for her voice but for the person she was as well. She didn't think it was that much to ask.

Her fathers were right of course - She was going to be a star she had known it since age 4, but Glee had also shown her that being a part of something special did make you special – but maybe that didn't necessarily mean being a part of this particular glee club anymore. She only had to look at Kurt to know how true that was. He was still able to sing to his heart's content and have fun in the Warblers, but now he didn't have to contend with people trying to bring him down. Her friendship with Kurt was only just beginning but even she could see how much more relaxed he was, happy to be himself without fear of being hurt in the process. No one thought he was weak for changing schools – in fact most people had supported him, herself included. So maybe she hadn't had any direct death threats like Kurt had, but at the end of the day things shouldn't have to get to that point before action had to be taken. No, she rationalised, maybe it was smarter to get out before things ever got that far.

Now fully dressed and with her makeup flawlessly applied Rachel wasn't so sure that she actually wanted to go to school. Or rather she wasn't sure she wanted to go to McKinley. With her mind made up and already feeling much lighter she walked down the stairs to find her Dad's still sitting around the kitchen table. They looked up when she entered, and though she was fairly sure the nervous smile and her wringing hands gave away her answer she spoke anyway.

"Dad, Daddy. I want to change schools."


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N1: Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read this story already and to those who have Favorited/followed/reviewed - It really made my day :) Also sorry for the late update but between Stereosonic and Taylor Swift's Concert (both absolutely amazing) I didn't have a lot of time to edit this. **_

Finn sat on the risers in the choir room, his hand wrapped in Quinn's as he spoke to Mike about a defensive play that the two had run in training the day before. His eyes kept darting to the door and as each minute brought the start of glee closer his brow became more and more furrowed. He still hadn't seen Rachel walk through the door and that in itself was worrying.

Rachel was usually ten minutes early and would be sitting in the front row, binder spread across her lap as she looked at songs to perform. Last year it had been for all the solos that she could sing (and truth be told she would have been amazing on all of them – but then again her voice was always flawless so it wasn't much of a surprise), but as the year had progressed she'd started to include a variety of songs – ones that would highlight the different strengths of all the club members. He couldn't help but be proud that he and Rachel had a duet section twice as thick as the rest of the group purely because they were able to cover such a diverse range of songs with their voices.

After the whole debacle with Santana and Sectionals, she no longer sat in the front row, more likely to be found sitting in the back corner. Her binder, though, remained ever present as she'd take down notes at random intervals. Still at least she had shown up.

He wanted more than anything not to care so much. He was in a relationship with Quinn now and it was Rachel who had torn their relationship apart in the end. When he slept with Santana he and Rachel weren't even together – Christ she was even with Jesse at the time – and maybe he shouldn't have kept it a secret but that still didn't mean that Rachel had to go running into Puck's arms. Though if he was being honest with himself he still couldn't tell if he was dating Quinn again because he liked her or because he was using it as some sort of payback to Rachel, because whether he liked it or not even he was still hopelessly in love with the tiny brunette girl.

Mr Shuester entered the choir room, five minutes late as usual, balancing a stack of sheet music in his arms.

"Alright guys, we have a couple of weeks until regionals and we need to make sure that we're sharp. Now I know that Rachel wanted to do original songs, but I was thinking we'd try a few other ones just to give us a few options."

"There had better be some R'n'B Mr Shue!" Mercedes interjected.

"And MJ is the definition of sharp. If we sing some of his songs there's no way we'll lose" Artie put in as well.

"Both are good ideas, but no, that's not quite what I had in mind" Mr Shue replied, and Finn watched as Mercedes and Artie's shoulders both dropped slightly. "But I think you'll be very happy with what I do have."

He began handing out the sheet music and Finn looked it over and smiled, "A Hard Day's Night" was a pretty good choice- everyone knew the Beatles and it totally fit with how hard everyone was working right now (even if he only really had his mom and Burt as a guide).

"Alright Santana and Finn why don't you take the lead on this one" Mr Shue said – he felt Quinn's nails dig into his hand but he nodded his agreement. His head may have been saying yes, he knew that he and Santana could pull the song off, but his heart was objecting feverishly as his eyes roamed the room, trying to find the one pair of eyes he knew would object wholeheartedly to this arrangement.

Looking around though he found that Rachel still hadn't arrived, so when Brad began the opening chords on the Piano he sat up a little bit straighter and started running through the first verse. His and Santana's voices fit pretty well together, and they did sound pretty good. Not as good as his and Rachel's did, but then again Rachel's voice was one in a million and despite the other girl's strengths Rachel was able to shine in a way that none of the others could. Or maybe that was just his bias speaking. He really needed to stop thinking of her like that. He was with Quinn. Maybe if he kept repeating it enough it would feel right…

Rehearsal continued on as the group began work shopping the song and getting it sounding much more polished in just a few run throughs – they'd come a long way since the beginning of last year, he thought proudly and he looked around to share his excitement with someone. All he saw though was Quinn looking bored as she inspected her nails, Mercedes and Tina trying to contain their laughter at some joke he'd obviously missed, and Puck trying to look out the glass pane in the choir room door at a few cheerleaders who happened to be walking by. He knew Rachel would have appreciated how much they had all improved, but she wasn't there.

"Alright" Mr Shue said clapping his hands together. "That's enough for one day. Everyone go over their parts and I'll see you again tomorrow".

The group started gathering their things and heading for the door. Finn remained sitting down whilst everyone else moved around him, he was sure that Rachel would have shown. It was completely unlike her not to show up for Glee and ,yes there had been a lot more tension the past few weeks, but the worst of it was over he thought. Even in the days immediately after Santana's announcement and after their break up she had still been there, slightly less vocal, but there nonetheless.

He thought about raising the irregularity with Quinn, but he wasn't sure if it was worth the argument that would surely evolve. Besides maybe she was just sick or something?

That was it he decided. She'd probably be there tomorrow and he'd wish she wasn't. Only because it meant he would have to use all of his willpower not to talk to her. It was harder even then the beginning of last year, when he wanted Rachel but couldn't have her and instead tried to surreptitiously steal glances of her ass.

Except now he'd done more than just look.

He knew how it felt to hold her as she moved on top of him, kissing his lips with fervour, and how she felt tucked under his arm as they watched a movie or drove in his truck. It was more than just the physical contact though, because despite the fact that they had dated, more than anything she had been his best friend.

A large part of him (hell if we was going to be completely honest, all of him) really missed being able to talk to her about everything, to share his fears and insecurities and not have her laugh at them as she would try to find some way to make him feel better. He kind of hated that part – hated that he still missed her after everything she had done to him. He kept telling himself that he should hate her. Hate her for knowing his weakness and using it against him – she knew exactly how much it had hurt last year with Quinn.

So she was honest about it, upfront, unlike Quinn. Last year though they were just kids. A whole year and a half younger than they were now and it was supposed to be about making mistakes and learning from them – wasn't that what everyone kept saying?

The fact that they had been younger and dumber and stupider last year wasn't a great defence but it kinda fit. He himself had been a massive douche last year, like when he ditched Rachel to find his 'inner Rock star" but he had learned from it and grown up. Rachel on the other hand seemed to have no problem using his old pain, the lessons he'd already learnt, against him.

It hurt so much more this time as well. Maybe because his feelings for her ran stronger than those he thought he had for Quinn. Maybe because it just reminded him of everything that had happened the year before and the pain of losing a child that was never really his to begin with. Or maybe it was because he had thought he could trust Rachel, trust her to keep his heart safe and she had turned and obliterated it into tiny little pieces.

Apparently though knowing that what Rachel did was wrong and actually having his heart realise it was two different things. Now all he was left with was a traitorous heart that still longed for Rachel, barely healed wounds from Rachel's actions and a relationship with Quinn which he was starting to think he never should have restarted again in the first place.

He was brought out of his Rachel induced haze by Quinn's voice whispering in his ear.

"So my mom isn't going to be home till late. Do you want to come over to mine?"

Finn gulped, he didn't want green eyes and a perfect nose and blonde hair. He wanted a tiny brunette with chocolate eyes and a nose that was slightly larger than normal but somehow fit her face perfectly. But there was no point in even thinking that. Maybe he just needed to make out with Quinn for a little bit to get his head fixed up?

It briefly ran through his mind that every other guy would think he was insane to give up making out with their hot girlfriend to mope about some else, especially someone who had already broken his heart. Somehow he couldn't even bring himself to care that much though.

"Uh… Yeah. Yeah that sounds good" He replied instead. He really needed to remember that he was supposed to be in love with Quinn.

"Perfect – come one let's stop off at the juice bar before we do. I've been dying for a wheat grass smoothie"

Finn tried to hide his disgust at the idea of the goopy green drink. Evidently he didn't try hard enough cause Quinn laughed and rolled her eyes.

"They have banana ones as well."

Finn just nodded sheepishly and headed over to his truck, opening the door for his girlfriend. He glanced once more around the parking lot trying to catch site of Rachel's little hatchback. Not seeing it anywhere he sighed and moved around to the driver's side, resigning himself to spending the rest of the afternoon with Quinn.

* * *

The next day, when Glee met again, Finn arrived 5 minutes earlier than usual. It meant he had had to skip getting a chocolate bar from the vending machine, but he was sure that it would be worth it. With any luck he would be able to talk to Rachel before Glee started, without the angry eyes of his girlfriend watching on.

He hadn't actually seen Rachel around the school that day, despite going out of his way to walk by the classrooms he knew she was in (walking her to class had had its benefits). He figured though that she'd probably show up for Glee even if she wasn't feeling well enough to go to her regular classes.

His efforts were in vain though because by the time Glee started he was left with a chocolate sized hole in his stomach and no Rachel. This time though the rest of the group seemed to notice.

"Where's the Midget?" Santana asked. "I mean I'm only asking because I'm actually enjoying the fact that I can hear myself think and the fact that I get to sing lead, but I would have thought she'd have something to say about that".

Mercedes laughed "Tell me about it. When you got the lead yesterday I expected her to have kittens or something. But really though, where'd she get to – it's kinda weird it being so quiet in here."

"Maybe she's just sick or something" Mike put in. "I mean it happens to all of us at some point".

"Well hopefully it can keep her out for like a week. I'm not ready to give up my peace and quiet just yet" Santana intoned.

Finn frowned, yes Rachel was outspoken and yes, even he had gotten annoyed by her incessant talking at some point or other. But she only did it because she cared about the group and about getting the best out of everyone.

He wanted to say something but he could feel Quinn's gaze on him so kept his lips firmly closed as everyone continued to talk about how nice it was to not have someone asking for perfection every single minute. It kind of defeated the purpose Finn thought, to practice something half-heartedly. It didn't really achieve anything and just wasted everyone's time. Rachel had been the only one ready and willing to keep everyone on track – even Mr Shuester seemed to slack off half the time – citing his need for a coffee break (3 times in an hour seemed a bit excessive to Finn but maybe it was his prejudice against coffee…).

He kept his opinions to himself though. He really didn't need any more drama in his life right now and he was trying to stay on Quinn's good side. The truth was, and he was sure everyone knew it even if they weren't willing to admit it, they needed Rachel.

Her voice, even when it wasn't singing lead added that extra degree of greatness and her extensive knowledge of staging and musical theatre really was invaluable. She always knew where the best places were to highlight a performer, mainly because she had spent a lot of time practicing in the spotlight so that she could get the best exposure, but still it benefited everyone in the end.

She also knew how to make the music her own. She would add crescendos, move it up or down a semitone and change the tempo slightly as she pleased to get the most meaning out of the song.

It was clear in her solos how beneficial her ability was. She could literally reduce a room to tears if she chose to or have them on them tapping their feet along and swaying in their seats. Of course she also managed to reduce herself to tears more often than not, as if she was pouring her whole heart into very single note. To be honest she probably was, he thought. Maybe that was what set her apart from everyone else in the club. They might all like music, love it even, but none of them lived and breathed it quite like Rachel did.

Finn knew that despite his own misgivings towards her they really needed her there, on their team. There was only so much longer that they could continue without her.

* * *

A week and a half later and Rachel still hadn't shown up to rehearsal. By the third day of her absence Finn had texted her, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as he asked where she was and when she would be returning. He didn't want to sound like he missed her or needed her - god knows where that would lead them - but he was starting to worry about how well the group could actually function without her. Sure they could sing the notes, but that wasn't necessarily good enough.

When that hadn't worked, and he'd received no reply, he had sent a couple of angry texts - trying to get a reaction out of her. He was sure that accusing her of being childish and selfish for not so much as telling him she wouldn't be at rehearsal would have gotten him a reply. In fact he had been expecting a whole block of text ranting at him with words he didn't even understand. Or something along the lines of how he didn't own her and didn't control her and she could act as she pleased.

He would have preferred that though to the resounding silence that he had received instead.

He kept staring this phone screen, careful not to let Quinn see whose messages he was looking at. There still wasn't a reply and his foot bounced up and down anxiously as he tried to take his agitation out on his surroundings, rather than bottling it up inside. Most people who got sick were out for a week max but Rachel wasn't like everyone else. She refused to accept that she was sick - Her bout of laryngitis last year had definitely proved that - and she was likely to only be out for a few days tops. Yet the extra seat in glee club remained stoically empty.

The rehearsal started and Finn didn't miss the way everyone kept glancing around at each other or at the door, almost willing Rachel to come back through them. They were still working on "A Hard Day's Night" and had most of the choreography down (well the rest of the group did he was pretty sure he was going to have to get Mike to give him a few extra directions – his feet just didn't want to be coordinated with the rest of his body). It wasn't like they sounded bad. It was just that they could sound better.

Finn couldn't help but dwell on the fact that Rachel had always offered up her advice on how the lines should be sung –although it often wasn't appreciated. There had been a number of times that Santana had told her to "shut the fuck up before I have to go all Lima Heights on your ass". Despite the protests or feigned nonchalance though, often than not they had heeded the advice - because it did make them sound crisper, or elicit more pain or give off a more excited tone.

The rehearsals had generally been more relaxed without Rachel there to insist they stay on topic or run the second verse again because they hadn't got one semiquaver in the exact place it should be. Her dedication and drive surpassed that even of Mr Shuester and although most of the group had resented her in the past for it, Finn was starting to think that perhaps the group was missing it more than they wanted to admit.

"I'm just saying that the last few note should be raised an octave" Santana said, directing her statement at Mr Shue.

"Are you kidding me?" Tina interrupted. "That would through the whole balance off".

"Tina's right. It actually should go down a semitone" Artie interjected.

Mr Shue just glanced between all of his students, unsure of what to say. Finn knew that he had usually had extensive meetings with Rachel when he had assigned new pieces. Not that he instigated them but Rachel really was quite unstoppable when she put her mind to something. From what Rachel had told him, Mr Shue had usually written them off, or pretended like he had planned to do it that way all along, but Rachel insisted that he just didn't want to admit how right she was and had persisted, showing up without fail to his office to talk through her in depth notes on the piece. Finn was starting to think that maybe Rachel had been right about Mr Shue, and that he had actually needed her advice as a vital part of his directorial decision making process.

Hell he was pretty sure he had no idea how they should end the first verse.

"Let's just leave it as it is" Mr Shue said, trying to sound authoritative, despite the fact that he had probably just made his decision on the spur of the moment with nothing backing it other than the fact that it already sounded ok now and he didn't want to mess with it.

Finn sighed. He knew that the way the piece sounded now didn't guarantee them a spot at Nationals. They couldn't just be good – they had to be great. They had to stand out from every other group. Groups that probably had their own power house voices.

Hell they didn't even really have their real powerhouse with them at the moment. Sure Santana was fantastic and her voice had that awesome raspy, sexy sound going for it and Mercedes could belt a note like no one else could but they still needed Rachel's soulful, soaring voice in the mix if they wanted to really push themselves over the edge.

He didn't know how much longer the club was going to work without having some of Rachel's input.

Apparently Mr Shue had come to the same realisation at some point during the rehearsal because instead of just dismissing them and sending them on their way as he usually did he spent the last few minutes asking the group if they had heard from Rachel. His voice was filled with a sense of urgency as he asked if any of them knew when she would be back.

"Sorry Mr Shue, I haven't seen the tiny diva around at all." Mercedes replied.

"Yeah and I haven't seen her in class since the week before last" Artie put in.

Mr Shue's brow creased as he too seemed to take in the significance of Rachel not having been at school for at least a week.

"And no one knows where she is? No one's heard from her?"

He was met with a unanimous no as everyone shook their head.

"Alright well you're all free to go. Have a goodnight and we'll work out a few of those choreography issues tomorrow. Mike maybe you can run through a few of the steps with Finn?"

Mike nodded and turned to look at Finn who gave a sheepish shrug of his shoulders – it so wasn't his fault. No one else had to contend with a 6 foot 3 body…

Instead of the whole group leaving though everyone remained in place as Mercedes turned and looked at everyone.

"Ok so I'm the first to admit that I'm not Rachel's biggest fan, but like it or not we definitely need her. Mr Shue has absolutely no idea what to do with the song other than what is printed on the paper – and everyone knows that you have to go above and beyond that if you want to stand out and sound different."

Everyone nodded their agreement.

"So what are we going to do?" Sam asked. "Like can't we just text her and ask her where she is?"

Finn shifted uncomfortably as he spoke up "I kind already did." Quinn's nails clawed at his skin as she clenched her fist around his arm – he was pretty sure there were going to be some pretty impressive nail marks at the end of this.

"And… What did she say white boy?"

"Well- uh she kinda didn't say anything. Like she didn't even reply"

"What seriously?" Puck interjected. "You say "jump" and she pretty much asks "how high?" No way she'd leave you hanging."

If it was even possible Quinn dug her nails in even further – yeah thanks a lot puck.

"Uh … well… yeah... I still got nothing. Like I didn't even get a 'leave me alone' or anything".

"Alrights, I'm not going to pretend like I actually like the Hobbit because I don't. But I sure as hell want to win this thing and even if she's not signing lead she does actually have some good things to say about the music –and if you ever tell her that I will cut you because there is no way I need to hear her voice more than I already do- but we need to cut the crap and deal with this. So we're going to go to her place and prop her up on pain meds or whatever it is she needs and tomorrow she's going to walk into rehearsal and annoy the shit out of everyone. Then hopefully we'll be able to make this song into something that will win us the damn competition. Got it?"

Finn rolled his eyes – leave it to Santana to pass off a somewhat caring action into an insult – but at least they'd be able to get Rachel back into the choir room.

* * *

The group followed each other through the darkened streets of Lima towards the Berry's house. Finn and Quinn were in the lead, guiding everyone back to Rachel's house.

"I just don't understand why you had to be the one who was texting her?" Quinn whined.

Finn groaned, fighting the urge to smash his fist on the dashboard. He was sure this had been the only topic of conversation for the whole drive over to Rachel's place and he was tired of having to defend his actions – which weren't even remotely challenging his relationship with Quinn.

"Because I'm the Glee co-captain. And she's the other one and it doesn't look like anyone else took it upon themselves to find out what was happening does it?"

"Why do you even care so much?"

"I don't" he lied, as his heart thumped out 'I do, I do'.

"You obviously do. I mean –"

"Look Quinn, just drop it ok. Yes I texted her but it was to find out why she hasn't been at Glee. You know as well as I do that we need her if we want to even have a chance of getting to New York this year." Finn cut her off unwilling to have Quinn examine his already jumbled emotions any more than necessary. It would only end in an even bigger argument and there were only so many things he could deal with at one time.

"Fine" Quinn grumbled and Finn knew this wasn't going to be the last of it - but for now it would enough.

He made the left turn into the Berry's street and watched in the rear-view mirror as the rest of the entourage followed his lead.

He pulled up in front of the house but was surprised to find the lights off – every other house on the street had a soft yellow glow emitting from the front windows. He threw the truck into park and jumped out as the rest of the gleeks met on the path outside the house.

His eyes though were no longer fixated on the windows, but on the white wooden sign staked in the frown lawn with the words "For Sale" printed in bright red, bold lettering splashed across the front.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, to every one that has favourited and followed this story I can never thank you enough and I'm beyond sorry about the delay in updating - having 16 relatives stay with you over Christmas and well into the new year provides very little time for writing - especially when they insist on seeing pretty much every tourist attraction that Sydney has to offer... Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait, but any constructive criticism is always appreciated. :)**

Rachel sighed as she received yet another text from Finn. Truth be told she had expected the texts to come much later than they actually did. She had been certain that his nonchalance and 'girlfriend' would keep him from caring, and she had almost changed her mind and replied. Almost. A couple of texts asking where she was wasn't going to change the months of heart ache and pain that she had endured at the school she kept telling herself.

So she kept her silence, and really it was probably the best response she could give at this point.

Sure she could go the whole "I'm currently in New York checking out performing arts schools because none of you ever seemed to care before" route, but what was the point? She didn't need to tell them anything. God knows they had never seemed to care before, more than happy to keep her in the corner or try to drown out her voice with their own whilst she tried to speak. In fact she had kind of thought that her absence would go unnoticed, or welcomed, for a little bit longer than it actually had. She was actually relying on that. It meant she would be given a bit more peace to be able to look at new schools without the inquiring texts of people she really didn't feel like talking to.

Besides she didn't want to run the risk of a glee club intervention, or whatever it was they called it.

She didn't want to hear fake apologies or unfounded statements that "it would get better" or that they "would be nicer people and better friends to her".

It would be far too little too late and all the pretty words that they could spin didn't guarantee her happiness. Things would probably be good for about a week as they all put on their best behaviour, treated her with kid gloves afraid that if they stepped outside the carefully drawn battle lines she would leave again. The problem was, empty words and empty promises didn't mean they actually cared and she could pretty much guarantee that within a week the same relentless pattern that her high school life had become would recommence as Glee club found some other drama to focus their attention on.

It wasn't even her in particular they were worried about losing, it was her voice. They'd all but said that to her – well Santana actually had but she was an entirely different matter – and she knew know that she wanted more. Giving them the opportunity to think she was giving them a " be nicer to me or I'll leave" ultimatum would only make things worse. Sure they would treat her better to her face, to ensure she remained in the club, but the whispers would circulate around the club (and by extension the entire school – nothing was a secret at McKinley) about how 'petty' she was being and how much they disliked her. They were already bad enough as they were, and whether the club thought she was stupid enough not to hear and understand where the rumours had come from or just didn't care was a blurred line she didn't feel like actually investigating.

If her mind hadn't been made up before, the week and a half away from McKinley looking at other schools had really allowed her to settle into her decision. Usually when she wasn't at school she had pushed down and repressed any painful memories, preferring not to dwell on them too long - surely if she ignored it long enough the pain would subside. There was no point in shedding tear after tear after tear, all it did was waste time and it didn't change the fact that she was almost certain to undergo the same fate the next day.

Now that she wouldn't have to return to McKinley, to the slushies and the insults and the blatant ignorance of teachers who chose to let students fend for themselves to 'build character' or 'gain independence' or some other lame excuse to free themselves of any responsibility, she was free to pick through the painful memories and bring them back into the light. Of course, for the most part, all that had done was allow her to recognise, in even greater clarity just how miserable she had been, but she refused to start at a new school with unresolved issues. She would work through them now, so that when she started she would start a fresh and knowing that whatever the new school threw her way she would be able to deal with it.

What she wanted most of all was to have high school memories that she could look back on and laugh and smile about. All her talk of being prepared for the paparazzi and having a bestselling autobiography was great for the future. But why should she have to wait a few years to start living and really enjoying life- Especially when everyone else got to start now? So no matter how painful the memories became she pushed through, certain that she already had enough material to fill three books on her early high school life and determined that a new school would provide her with the happiness she so thoroughly craved.

All that was left to do was to find a school. Her Dad's, never ones to deny their daughter anything, had insisted that she choose whatever school she liked and they would figure out work arrangements later. She had scoured the internet looking for performing arts schools, thinking that they had to be the best fit for her – both in preparing her for her inevitable Broadway future and in finding likeminded people. She desperately wanted to have a friendship with people who wanted her to be around and where she could just let loose and enjoy herself, and she was sure if she surrounded herself with people who thought like her the task would be made significantly easier.

Her first choice was obviously New York, but ever the realist she had looked up a few others as back up plans, certain that this is where she wanted to be and refusing to take no for an answer – she was not going to go back to McKinley.

Another text came through from Finn. This one angrier than the last. She gritted her teeth at his accusations of her being selfish and childish, but said nothing - she wasn't going to take the bait. He could text her as much as he liked, she wasn't going to reply. The happiness and joy that the thought of transferring brought her wasn't something she felt like sharing with the Glee club at this point, especially not Finn.

Yet another text came through but Rachel didn't even bother to read it, instead she pocketed her phone and looked around the waiting room of the principal's office of New York's premier performing arts school.

"Rachel Berry?" The young secretary said looking at her. She nodded and stood up, her fathers standing up beside her. "Right this way. Mr Conway will see you now"

Rachel and her fathers walked inside the lavish room and each took a seat in the ornate wooden chairs admiring the photos of students in various productions throughout the years. Mr Conway sat behind the large oak desk, his white hair lying like a cloud over his head and a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

He peered over his glasses at Rachel and gave a nod of his head. "Rachel. Mr Berries. Lovely to see you"

All three bobbed their heads and each gave a polite "Thank you" as they all focused their attention on the principal.

"Now Rachel your transcripts look wonderful. You're averaging As in all your subjects correct. "

Rachel nodded" yes, sir"

"Now your letter says that you're interested in the musical theatre program that we offer. Why have you chosen that?"

Rachel nodded and launched into her answer that she had to have given at least seven or eight times before, all of the principals had asked it and she had made sure to hit all the memorable moments in her development. From seeing her first onstage musical, to Barbara Streisand, Funny Girl and her dreams of Broadway stardom.

Mr Conway and her Fathers watched her speak animatedly, her arms gesturing wildly as she detailed her dreams and plans for the future and why she thought that studying musical theatre now would be the greatest advantage for her. The principal just smiled and nodded along as she spoke and she was sure that he was trying to hold back a laugh at her exuberant enthusiasm.

She was almost panting as she finished and Mr Conway chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly as he continued with the interview, clearly not expecting such a long and detailed answer to his question. "Now, you've been part of the glee club I see. How has the McKinley group gone?"

"We've made it to regionals twice in the two years since the club has been reinstated."

"Great, great and what did that involve?"

"We had a group rehearsal 3 times a week after school where we ran through group numbers and choreography and individual performances were sometimes work shopped." Rachel reeled off, by now used to the questions that many of the principals asked – it seemed to be standard procedure for a performing arts school. Still she tried to remain detached and talk about the group as a whole, and her role in it, whilst avoiding anything that would hint at the underlying pain the group had caused her. "And then I had individual vocal lessons for two hours a week and would rehearse every day at home." She finished her spiel and sat back a little in the chair waiting for Mr Conway's response.

"Lovely. I strive for such dedication in my students. Now if you don't mind me asking this is an unusual time of year to request a placement in the school. Not that you wouldn't' be an unwelcomed addition but what has brought you to our doors today?"

Rachel glanced quickly at her fathers, none of the other schools had asked her such a question and although she had worked on a brief outline of what she could say if the question ever arose, it felt childish and silly now. Taking a deep breath she decided that honesty was the best policy, she didn't really have that much to hide after all.

"Ohio hasn't been, and still isn't, particularly supportive of the arts, and whilst there have been a few teachers at the school who have fought hard to change the perception of art in the school, and in the community, it's still sadly lacking. The rest of the student body often disregarded glee club and the whole group faced a lot of physical and verbal abuse." She took a deep breath trying to gather her thoughts, and not let her emotions get the best of her.

"I guess I just got tired of always being told that me, or my dreams of performing, were worthless or hopeless, especially when I love it so much and put so much effort into it. I feel like as much as I've grown up in McKinley, I now need something more. This school would give me the opportunity to work on my skills, around peers and teachers who not only know what they're talking about, but appreciate it as well."

Mr Conway regarded her solemnly over the tops of his glasses, nodding his head. "I see. I'm sorry to hear about the way the club has been treated, and am glad that there are still teachers fighting for arts education. I'm sure you'll find that an arts school will come with its own challenges, but hopefully these will be more constructive to your craft and lead you towards even greater success." Rachel nodded happily, already aware that getting everyone to like her was likely an impossible feat, especially when everyone vied for the same roles.

Mr Conway then turned to include her fathers in the conversation as well. "Now I'm sure you're aware that as a performing arts school we run our mainstream courses - maths, English, a language and a science are compulsory and then 4 hours of performance based lessons are part of the curriculum everyday. You will still be expected to rehearse and complete homework outside of school hours. Does that all sound acceptable?"

"Yes sir"

"Excellent now you're records are great but you'll still need to audition before we can offer you a place at the school"

Rachel tried to keep her grin in check as she nodded her understanding and acceptance whilst Mr Conway started to address her father on the tuition prices and financial side of things.

He seemed to drone on for hours and Rachel kept her face carefully schooled to not reveal how bored she was becoming. In her head she was running through audition pieces.

There was the obvious "Don't Rain On My Parade" – she had sung it enough times to know it backwards and it really would showcase her abilities. But was it too expected? Too mainstream? But she was auditioning for a place in part of the musical theatre program so maybe it was appropriate...

Her dad standing up and shaking hands with the principal jolted her out of her musings and she too stood to shake hands with the old, bespectacled man.

"We'll see you later this afternoon for your audition Rachel. Good luck"

With a smile and a thank you Rachel followed her dad out of the office.

* * *

She and her dad sat at a table at small vegan café on the New York sidewalk as they ate their lunch, her Papa having made arrangements to talk to a business associate about possible job opportunities in New York. Rachel continued to look around the little café, drinking the atmosphere in as she sipped at her lemon tea. She was feeling pretty good about her audition, having eventually decided that she'd be remiss if she didn't acknowledge Barbara in some way for getting her start in her sure to be shining Broadway career. There was no way this new school opportunity could be anything but a leg up in the industry. She was going to be surrounded by some of the best teachers and resources available there was no way that anything was going to stop her from reaching that stage.

She knew that she had impressed the admissions panel, even I they had remained fairly tight lipped after she had performed, offering her only a curt nod and a we'll be in touch soon. They couldn't however, hide their expressions of appreciation as she sang, her voice soaring with well-practiced ease over the notes, using their reactions to spur her on and belt out the notes with even more control and clarity then her Sectionals Performance the year before. She hadn't tried to hold back her grin as she had curtsied and thanked them for their time before making her way backstage to meet her father.

Lost in her thoughts she looked up, only to find her dad beaming at her.

"This is the one isn't it?" He asked his daughter, already aware of her answer.

In the last week and a half they had visited six performing arts schools - from Chicago to Cleveland to Michigan - but he hadn't seen his daughter as full of life at any of them as she was now. She seemed to be filled with some inner joy that was finally being able to shine now that the confines of Lima had been removed. He only wished he'd noticed her predicament earlier.

"Yep this is it. I know that we haven't heard back from them or anything but I have a good feeling about it. And besides this is New York daddy! Dreams are literally born here every day and can you imagine how many shows I can go and see to get the best preparation for my own debut?" She took another look around the busy street, watching as people hurried back and forth and the longer she looked the larger her smile became until it covered her whole face and set her eyes alight.

Her father smiled back at her again, he had known that none of the other schools were ever going to be contenders as far as his daughter was concerned. Not only was New York her lifelong dream the school was the most prestigious, the most renowned and it seemed like Rachel would fit right in.

"That it is" he replied and lifted his water glass, nodding his head at her glass on the table for her to follow suit. "To new beginnings in the city that never sleeps" he said and they clinked their glasses together both beaming.

* * *

It came as no surprise when Mr Conway called to offer Rachel a position at the prestigious LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts. That didn't stop Rachel from screaming though as she enveloped her fathers in a massive hug and started jumping around in a circle. When they broke apart, Hiram straightened his glasses on his nose and clapped a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"We knew you could do it bug. And we're so proud of you" he wiped a tear from his cheek and Rachel surged forward to hug him tightly.

"Thank you dad. I'm so excited" she ended with a squeal. "It's going to be just like fame. Singing and dancing and acting and vying for parts in a production that'll actually be performed and watched by critics. Oh dads this is just the beginning. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

"You know what this means, don't you?" Her daddy said.

"Oh of course - we need to celebrate" her papa cut in. " ooh I know this fantastic little Italian place just down -"

He was interrupted by her father " besides celebrate I mean. We should start looking for a place to live."

Rachel clapped her hands again bouncing on the balls of her feet "oh we'll be actual New Yorkers!" She exclaimed and threw her arms around both of her father's shoulders.

Her papa patted her arm "Rachaela I think you were always a New Yorker at heart. You practically came out of the womb belting Broadway lyrics."

They all chuckled and continued their conversation about where, and when, they could start apartment hunting.

* * *

Rachel considered going back to tell the Glee club her new plans for the rest of her school years, but the more she thought about it the more her thoughts moved in the opposite direction. What did she really owe them at this point?

For a year and a half she had been the most dedicated and most invested glee club member and despite all of her efforts all they ever did was shun her. If it wasn't open hostility and name calling then it was the more subtle missed invites to supposed 'group gatherings' or the eye roll whenever she performed a solo, a stark contrast from the rapt attention that she paid during their performances (so what if she was analyzing it at the same time. The industry wasn't always kind and if she could provide a little bit of feedback now then she could help them improve and help their chances at competitions and their own individual performances.)

Maybe she should go back and explain that she wouldn't be there with them to compete at regionals – especially with them quickly approaching. But truth be told she almost physically recoiled from the idea. The idea of going back to McKinley without having to go just to survive another academic day made her stomach roll. The distance of the past week and a half week and looking at new schools had definitely changed her perspective and she as more than just ready to get out. She was angry that she had to put up with all of it for so long. All they had ever asked her to do was change.

"Stop dressing like that – you're going to pull our whole image down."

"Stop talking so much."

"Get a nose job."

Never once had the appreciated her for who she was. It was only ever her talent – and whilst the others didn't have her own impressive resume of technical training and extra-curricular involvement Santana and Mercedes and even Tina had a lot of talent and they could sing at regionals without her. True it wouldn't be quite as good, but at this point she knew she was probably only going to be singing back up anyway. They wouldn't miss her.

Apparently they could, and would, miss her voice. The near constant stream of texts from Finn was testament to that. Apparently he had been appointed sole correspondent or something. It was as if none of the others could bother to even spend the few seconds it would take to send her a message themselves, ask how she was and not just how her voice was. That or Finn was the only one that cared enough to ask where she could possibly be. That option didn't make her anger subside any less. Apparently Finn could only care about her when she wasn't with him (and she obviously wasn't allowed to do the same – his anger over Christmas was hard to forget and his displeasure at her even mentioning Quinn at this point was none too subtle). He was such a hypocrite.

She threw her phone across the room, and screamed into her pillow. Seriously was he the only one allowed to call the shots? Was he the one who could always get what he wanted?

No! Starting from now she was going to be stronger than ever. She was free of McKinley, free of their Glee Club and she was most definitely free from Finn. She was going to make her own way in this world, In New York City and one day when her name was, inevitably, up in lights they would all wish that they had treated her a little better. She was not going to play the same games over and over again with all of them. She was sick of them and her heart had had more than enough.

That lonely, Jewish girl from Lima, Ohio who kept sweeping up her heart to hand to Finn, or the Glee club, was going to be long gone. Replaced by the stronger, better, and much more prepared New York Version.

First things first. Cutting off all contact with her previous life. She didn't need, or want, to share it with the people from her past, who would only want to tear her down.


End file.
